House Rules
by tmntyyh
Summary: "There are certain things you must know in order to survive as a foreigner in this great country, Wombat..." It was Chase's interview with House and he felt the need to go over the rules of survival in a new country... Warnings are inside.
1. Chapter 1

Title: House Rules

Summary: "There are certain things you must know in order to survive as a foreigner in this great country, Wombat..." It was Chase's interview with House and he felt the need to go over the rules of survival in a new country with the innocent duckling...one day at a time.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warnings: Uhh...odd humor, swearing, yaoi, graphic smut, groping, field trips, drinking, etc.

Side Note: Following chapters will be longer.

* * *

><p>Rule One: What's Mine Is Mine<p>

"So, Down Under," House began as he tossed his ball between his hands and leaned back in his chair, smirking at the way the blonde's eyebrow rose at the name. "Let's skip right to the fun part of this interview. Are you legal?"

"I'm twenty-six, so I'm of age, yes," the Australian quipped as he watched House. "I also have all of my paperwork so I can legally work in the States. They're attached to my resume."

"Ooh, Wombat's got wit," the Diagnostician countered, glad that he had finally found someone that showed the promise of being willing to go head-to-head with him in verbal sparring. "How long have you been in the United States of Awesome?"

"One fortnight," the Intensivist answered, making the world renown Diagnostician wince.

"Fortnight? My God. It shows, Crocodile Dundee."

Blinking innocently as a slight frown graced the young doctor's delicate features, the blonde felt compelled to ask, "It does?"

"No American would ever say the word "fortnight." Well, maybe Wilson when he's feeling particularly gay." Grinning at the confusion that was plainly visible on the blonde face, House rose from his chair with the help of his cane, setting his ball onto his desk before limping around the large piece of furniture. Hobbling over to the door, the brunette looked back at the young man that was still sitting in the chair, watching him carefully. "Well? Come on; you've got to pass Jimmy's tests as well." He watched as the Australian rose from the chair before walking over to the door, holding it open for the older doctor. "Well, what do you know? Chivalry isn't dead," he mocked before limping out of the door and into the hallway, hearing the soft footsteps of the interviewee behind him as he led him over to Wilson's office.

Opening the door without even bothering to knock, House strolled right into the office and plopped down on the sofa before waving the blonde into the room. "House," Wilson muttered without even looking up from the paperwork he was finishing. "To what do I owe this displeasure?"

"I'm showing off my new pet," House said with embellished cheer as he made a sweeping gesture towards Chase. "Can I keep him? He's already house broken!"

"If he's not, he will be soon," the Oncologist added dryly.

"Oh, good one, Jimmy!" House laughed as he watched his friend put down his pen before looking over at Chase, giving House a look afterward. "What?"

Looking over at Chase once more, the brunette smiled comfortingly as he spoke, "Please excuse us for a moment." Turning to fix his brown eyes on his friend, Wilson jerked his head towards the balcony, "House."

"Jimmy," the Diagnostician mocked, a smirk spread out across his face.

"Can we have a word?"

"I think we already are having quite a few," House quipped, grinning at the slight smile that graced the baby-faced blonde standing by the doorway before he looked back at his friend. Heaving a sigh at the disapproving look that he was given from the Oncologist, the crippled doctor rose to his feet carefully using his cane before winking at the young doctor that he was certain would be working for him immediately. "Be right back; the grownups need to talk." Sure, he was insinuating that the blonde was not an adult, but to be fair he probably got carded every time that he stepped into a bar. Limping over to the balcony, the brunette did not miss the smile that his longtime friend threw in Chase's direction before following him out onto said balcony, making sure that the glass doors were closed behind him.

"Have you lost your mind?" Wilson hissed softly, trying to keep the Intensivist from overhearing the conversation.

Raising an eyebrow, the doctor could not help but grin widely, not completely sure about what the Jewish doctor was complaining about. Was it the fact that he was planning on hiring someone who looked like he had barely finished high school? Maybe the fact that he was currently showing the blonde around the hospital like he was prize that he had just won? Or the fact that Wilson probably thought that he was only hiring the Down Under delight because he was trying to get back at Cuddy for doubling his clinic hours. "Depends," he answered vaguely as his grin remained firmly planted on his face. "Some would gladly argue that I had lost my mind a long time ago or never even had one."

"Where did you find this kid; at a playground?" Wilson asked in exasperation, completely ignoring his friends earlier answer. "He doesn't even look old enough to practice medicine!"

"He's legal," House countered with a grin as he watched his friend's disgusted reaction.

"I'm being serious, House."

"So am I; Cuddy made me interview him because, get this, his daddy's Rowan Chase. The best part is: the kid doesn't even know that he called me."

"House, no."

"I think I'm going to hire him; granted, the kid's a bit of a people-pleaser but he's got some bite to him. Unlike the quitters, Blondie can take my jabs and dish some back out."

"So that's your requirement? If someone can tolerate you irritability, they get to work with you?"

"Basically. But have you seen his-"

"No, House. No. There's no way Cuddy will let you hire him just because you want to turn some rich kid into your prodigy!"

"Please," the older doctor dismissed before grinning, "he's already a prodigy. I can make him a better one, though. He's only been in the country from two weeks; poor kid has no idea what he's getting into."

"House. No. You can't even entertain the thought of taking him under your wing. Just... Please let this opportunity go."

"You know I can't do that; think of all the things he doesn't know about!" Ending the conversation with that, House reached over and flung open the door to the balcony, limping into the room. "Rule one, Wombat: My toys are not public property so keep your grubby little paws off of them. Jimmy counts as one of my toys." Ignoring the indignant sputter that he got in return from his friend, the Diagnostician kept his eyes on the confused blonde that just blinked and nodded. "Good. Follow me, we have some paperwork to fill out and rules to go over."

Nodding once more, the young doctor looked over at Wilson and smiled softly, "Goodbye."

"Good luck," Wilson offered as he smiled back, returning to his seat once they had left his office. "...We're all going to need it."

Review for more.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: House Rules

Summary: "There are certain things you must know in order to survive as a foreigner in this great country, Wombat..." It was Chase's interview with House and he felt the need to go over the rules of survival in a new country with the innocent duckling...one day at a time.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warnings: Uhh...odd humor, swearing, yaoi, graphic smut, groping, field trips, drinking, etc.

* * *

><p>Rule Two: Sharing is Caring<p>

Once Chase had closed the door behind him, House began to walk down the hallway, leading his new duckling over to the Human Resources Department. At first, he was very tempted to just leave his new blonde duckling behind just so he would not have to deal with the insufferable workers that Cuddy seemed to think were competent enough to deal with interdepartmental relations and also because it would be something that his scrawny duckling would have to get used to; being left in an awkward conversation with people that his boss had thoroughly pissed off and trying to smooth things over. However, his mind changed when they neared the front office.

The Department's staffs' eyes all flew to Chase and the innocent Australian did not appear none the wiser to the eager glances as he followed House like a little, golden puppy that was both nervous and excited at being taken into a new home and being shown around the rooms. Hushed whispers met his ears as they walked past the clusters of workers, the words indecipherable but still heard. Past of House knew that they were most likely talking about his track record with hiring new ducklings after his quit, have a breakdown, or get arrested for breaking into a patient's house. Another part of him, though, could not help the possessive feeling that took him over; he almost wanted to show off the young Intensivist to them all so they could marvel at how he had managed to get such a looker on his staff. He also wanted to lock the young blonde in his office so none of those horrid women could dig their hideously painted nails into his pale, yet sun-kissed skin.

Deciding to settle on giving them both a show and locking his newest pet away, the elder doctor limped over to the front desk, grabbed a clipboard full of papers, making sure to take everything he needed before handing them to Chase. The Australian took the clipboard and a pen before House leaned against the desk and swung his cane through the air.

"Listen up, you vultures; this here is Doctor Robert Chase. Get a good look because the next time you'll see him, he'll be quitting," the Diagnostician called out before setting his cane back onto the ground and hobbling out of the Department, leaving annoyed workers and a stunned duckling in his path. Gathering up his senses, the blonde Intensivist hurried after his new boss as he slipped the pen in between his teeth and flipped through the documents attached to the clipboard. "You can fill out all of those when we're back in Diagnostics," he said to the younger doctor that was following him, not even bothering to look back to make sure that the other man was keeping up as he headed back to his office. The kid was young and had two working legs, surely he could manage to keep up with a crippled, older; but definitely not old; doctor.

"Tell me, Wombat-"

"Wombat?" Chase questioned around the pen, his voice muffled as he looked up from the paperwork and over at the brunette in front of him.

A grin lit up House's face as he continued to limp down the hallways, "All of my pets get names; you need one as exotic as foggy and rain-soaked motherland that you hail from." Blue eyes flicked back to gauge the blonde's reaction, taking in the way that the younger man's face scrunched up slightly in aversion.

"I'm not British."

"That accent practically screams that you're a neighbor to Ireland."

"Wombats aren't even in England!"

"Well, if anyone would know, it would be you..."

"I'm from Australia!"

Letting out a mock sigh, House shook his head teasingly as he opened the door to his office before limping inside, "Nothing worse than a self-hating Brit." Going over to sit at his desk, the brunette watched as the blonde rolled his eyes while he chewed on the pen in his mouth. "Okay, time for your first test, Brit-Boy!"

Pausing from where he was about to sit down at a chair, the blonde blinked owlishly as he looked over at the Diagnostician, "Test?"

"Yes, a test," the brunette repeated himself slowly before mocking him. "Did I st-st-stutter?"

"...Is that a trick question or a part of the test?"

A smirk graced his face as he pressed on, letting the awkward silence get to the nervous blonde, "What is rule one?"

"Your toys are yours and not public property," Chase recalled, smiling slightly around the pen that he chewed on, his words slurred a bit as he sat down at the table, setting the clipboard down in front of him.

"And you are?"

"Doctor Robert Chase."

"EH!" The brunette let out a sharp sound like a buzzer, "You lose. Care to try again?"

Startling at the sound that House made, Chase hummed softly before thinking back and replying, "A toy?"

Bright, blue eyes lit up as House leaned back in his chair, tossing his cane between his hands, "I was going for pet, but that works as well."

"Damn. That was going to be my second choice."

"Technically, it would have been your third." Slim shoulders shrugged before blue-green eyes turned back to the papers that he had to fill out, slipping the pen from his mouth and uncapping it before filling in the blanks, only managing a few before the rumbling voice cut into his thoughts. "I'm bored." Looking over at the speaker before back at his paperwork, Chase shrugged once more. "Entertain me, Wombat."

"I'm a doctor, not a babysitter."

"Even grownups need entertainment. You'll find that out once you reach puberty in a few years."

"Yeah, just in time to change your adult diapers."

"What was that, Duckling?"

"...I thought I was a wombat?"

"Finish your paperwork," House said, cutting off the mock argument and snarky back and forth comments before the blonde could realize that he had no snappy comeback to that question. Reaching into his desk, the Diagnostician pulled out his Gameboy before playing a few rounds, grumbling when he continued to die. His eyes roamed from the vibrant screen over to the pen that kept snaking its way into the blonde's mouth as he filled out the sheets upon sheets of paperwork. "Leave those there," the elder doctor cut in, shattering the silence that had settled into the room. "It's time for lunch."

"...It's eleven," Chase countered as his eyebrows furrowed, eyes glancing over at the clock hanging on the wall.

"Exactly. Get your Wombat-y ass up and let's eat."

Rolling his eyes as he rose from the table, the blonde Intensivist rose from his seat before setting down his pen and going over to the door, holding it open so House could walk past him, blinking innocently when he was pat on the head before he followed the Diagnostician out of the room, fixing his hair as he went. He walked beside the taller doctor until they reached Wilson's office, waiting outside of the glass office while his boss burst inside and proceeded to tease and prodd the Oncologist until he gave in and agreed to have lunch with them all.

On the way to the cafeteria, Chase looked around while the two brunette bickered amicably about the benefits of watching soap operas while on the job. The blonde walked over to the displays of food once they were in the cafeteria, Wilson saying that he was all set; he had brought a lunch with him and made sure to pack extra for House. Nodding, the blonde looked over the different kinds of sandwiches before he picked out a simple cheese sandwich that was topped with lettuce and tomato, paying for it before glancing at all of the tables.

He felt like he was back in high school; nurses sat with nurses, the surgeons sat together, and the-

"Hey, Aryan Nation, over here!"

Blinking, Chase looked over at the source of the sound, raising an eyebrow at the giant, two-handed wave he was given while Wilson elbowed his friend in the ribs.

"Was that really necessary?" the Oncologist asked as he glared at House.

"Oh, don't be so sensitive."

"I'm Jewish!"

"It's no excuse for having such thin skin," the Diagnostician relied as Chase sat down, quickly reaching over and taking half of the blonde's sandwich. "You aren't the only Jewish doctor in the room, Jimmy."

"And I'm certain that they are even more exasperated with you than I am," Wilson countered.

"...No, go ahead, help yourself," the blonde muttered softly as he watched half of his lunch, as well as half of the Oncologist's, go to his boss.

"Rule number two, Wombat: Sharing is caring," House countered, making his friend snort softly in amusement and disbelief.

"So you share as well?" Chase asked as he watched his boss take a large bite of what was formerly his sandwich.

"Of course I do!" House said, getting an incredulous look thrown his way courtesy of Wilson. "You know that I share, Jimmy. Don't give me that look; I'm immune to it."

"And what do you share? Misfortune? Malpractice lawsuits? Bad news to patients and non-patients alike?" the Oncologist asked, grateful that his lunch was not completely pilfered while his friend set upon the blonde's lunch like a vulture upon a carcass. "The only thing I've seen you actually go out of your way to share was misery to every department you can manage. You even set a record!"

A grin spread across the Diagnostician's face as he chewed his mouthful of food, speaking as he did so, "Naturally. Misery loves company." Turning his attention to the blonde Intensivist that was watching him as he ate, House waved his half of the sandwich in front of the blonde, "Next time, get a Rueben. This is disgusting."

"He also offers unwanted advice on what you should order so he can steal it," Wilson added with a slight smile. "I would recommend buying him his own lunch so he wouldn't steal yours, but that won't stop him from taking any fries that are helplessly lying on your plate."

"Helpless?" House sported as he continued to eat the sandwich that he had taken from Chase. "I hardly think so. They would have revolted against you if I let them all be eaten by you." He gazed over at the blonde and grinned, "Can you believe that he eats them plain?" Looking back at his friend, the brunette continued to speak, "French fries, like most fried, starchy vegetables, are meant to be eaten only after they are smothered in ketchup."

"He has the worst eating habits."

"...Then don't they go hand-in-hand with his people skills?" Chase offered, making Wilson laugh while House grinned.

"Et tu, Wombat?"

"He has a point, you tend to try to destroy people's moral in humankind."

"What is this? An assault on my character? I could sue you for defamation of character!" House cried out in mock distress.

"You would not stand a chance," Wilson retorted as he began to eat what House left of his lunch. "The truth hurts."

"Oh, it's on, Jimmy," House countered with a grin on his face.

"House, no."

"Eat up, Wombat," the brunette continued as the blonde bit down on his sandwich, wary about the look his boss was giving him.

"...Hm?"

"We've got to get to work once you finish that horrible sandwich."

Swallowing his bite of food, Chase frowns slightly, "I still have to finish my paperwork."

"This is more important," the brunette said as Wilson groaned and rubbed his temple.

"House-" the Oncologist tried to reason.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," the eldest doctor teased as he continued to grin. "You made your bed, Jimmy. Now you'll have to lie in it. ...Then again, you know all about beds, don't you, Jimmy?"

"House!"

"Oh, come on. It's all over the hospital!"

"Now is not the time to discuss this!"

Looking back at his newest employee, House could not help but smirk, "Wilson's a slut."

"HOUSE!" Wilson shrieked in disbelief while Chase choked on his sandwich.

* * *

><p>Review for more.<p>

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	3. Chapter 3

Title: House Rules

Summary: "There are certain things you must know in order to survive as a foreigner in this great country, Wombat..." It was Chase's interview with House and he felt the need to go over the rules of survival in a new country with the innocent duckling...one day at a time.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warnings: Uhh...odd humor, swearing, yaoi, graphic smut, groping, field trips, drinking, etc.

* * *

><p>Rule Three: Stranger Danger<p>

House cackled loudly as he watched his friend turn a bright shade of red, shoot as withering of glare as he could manage in his direction, and then try to dislodge the bite of horrendous cheese, lettuce, and tomato sandwich that was caught in the blonde's Intensivist's throat. Disapproving stares were sent in his direction when Chase managed to cough up the soggy mess of bright colors onto his tray, his face almost as red as the Oncologist that was standing behind him. "It's all right," Wilson called out to the doctors that had risen from their seats in case assistance was needed in aiding the choking blonde. "He'll be just fine." Turning to face the smirking Diagnostician, the Jewish doctor glared at him while he bit out, "That was *highly* uncalled for!"

"Like it's my fault the little Wombat forgot how to properly eat?" House teased before grinning at the disgruntled and embarrassed Intensivist. "Don't feel so bad, I'm sure many kids your age forget to chew their food thoroughly before attempting to swallow."

"It wasn't my fault!" Chase defended weakly.

"Can't you be nice to your...what do you call them again? Lemmings?" Wilson asked as he tried to help the newest doctor protect himself from his new boss's tactics.

"Ducklings, but I like where you're going with that, Jimmy," the Diagnostician replied as a wide grin unfurled on his face.

"Ducklings, that's it. Be nice to your baby ducks or they'll attempt to fly away far too soon."

"And do what? They're fuzzy ducks!"

"And...do...duck things! I don't know," the Oncologists bemoaned as he rubbed his temples. "I'm not familiar with the activities that ducks complete besides the standard bread-eating." House grinned widely at his friend before frowning when he saw a nurse walk over and place a hand on Chase's shoulder, handing him a bottle of water as she murmured something into the young blonde's ear. Narrowing his eyes, the Diagnostician held up his cane before smacking it loudly against the top of the table, making the nearby doctors jump before looking at him in a mixture of confusion and annoyance. The floozy of a nurse was more on the annoyed side while his newest little duckling looked far more confused and his Jewish friend looked like a combination of both.

"Rule number three, Wombat," the elder doctor said as he waved his cane in the direction of the nurse, "is called "Stranger Danger.""

"Stranger Danger?" Wilson repeated slowly as one of his eyebrows quirked up, the annoyance on his face completely replaced with mirth. "Now, I know you call them your baby ducks, but do you really have to treat your employees like they're five?"

"I'll leave the potty-training to you, Jimmy," House quipped before turning his attention back to his newest Intensivist while Wilson smiled in delight at having gotten his best friends attention away from his own personal life. If there was one thing that he was grateful for, it was the fact that Gregory House often had the attention of child at an amusement park. "Didn't your parents ever warn you about the dangers of talking to strangers, duckling? After all, we wouldn't want you to get duck-napped and wake up swimming with the fishes. Besides, that's one of Jimmy's hand-me-downs. I wouldn't get to close if I were you." A look of irate disgust was aimed at the doctor before the nurse stormed away while Wilson sighed in exasperation.

"You make it sound like she's an old pair of jeans that I grew out of," the Oncologist bemoaned as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, sulking slightly while House grinned lavishly at him.

"Besides, there's no telling what she's carrying." Wilson glared at House as he turned his previous thought from a child to a Lazy Susan. It always came back to him, the question was just how long it would take to get back to his original topic.

"Water?" Chase offered as he held up the bottle before twisting off the cap and lifting the brim to his lips, tipping the bottle so some of the water would spill into him mouth. Grinning, the brunette doctor lifted his came to knock against the upturned bottle of water, causing it to spill over the blonde duckling as he continued to grin in delight.

"More like venereal disease," the brunette quipped.

"Greg!" Wilson snapped, part of it was from his treatment of his newest employee, the other from pure embarrassment. While he knew his friend, though sometimes he questioned why he was still friends with such a childish attention-whore, was just teasing him, the now-drenched Australian sitting with them might not and could come to believe that he actually was a slut that had contracted or, heaven forbid, given the nurse a sexually transmitted disease! Turning his attention to the younger doctor in question, the Oncologist flashed his charming smile at the seemingly innocent man. "Don't believe him. While I cannot speak for someone else, I assure you that I am neither a slut, and that I do not have any kind of sexual diseases."

"Jeez, Jimmy," House grinned, "trying to pick up my Wombat right in front of me? That's just cold."

Blushing darkly, the Jewish doctor could not stop his stammer as he stumbled over his words, "Wh-what? No. No, I'm not- No. N-not that you're not attractive, Chase. For a man. I mean, I'm sure *women*, not me-"

"It's so odd to see all of his blood rush to his *face* for once," the cantankerous doctor mused with fiendish glee, getting another glare from the Oncologist.

"As opposed to...?" Chase questioned without even thinking through House's earlier statement, futilely wringing the water out of his clothes, leaving the dress shirt damp and wrinkled.

"...You don't dye your hair do you?" House teased mercilessly, easily switching between his two targets.

"Why would I dye my hair?" the bewildered Intensivist questioned at the sudden change of topic while he turned his gaze away from the damp shirt to look at his future boss.

"Can you believe he's actually licensed to practice medicine?" the Diagnostician laughed as he looked at his still flustered friend. Turning his attention away from his friend, the Diagnostician quickly turn in the light pink hue of the blonde's ears when he figured out exactly what he had said to get such a response.

"I didn't mean it like that," Chase offered as an excuse.

"He's teasing you," Wilson countered when House opened his mouth, making the other brunette pout playfully when his chance to mock the blonde even more was snapped out of reach. "Generally, unless it has to do with a medial case, you should ignore just about everything that comes out of his mouth."

"Just about?" Chase and House asked at the same time, the Australian's voice laced with confusion while the Diagnostician's entire demeanor radiated with curiosity and amusement.

"Do share, Jimmy," the brunette doctor smirked as he folded his hands underneath his chin and leaned forward, "what should the little wallaby actually listen to and what should be thrown aside like your sloppy seconds?"

"First off," the Oncologists bit out as he moved to rest his hands on his hips, stopping the movement partway when his friend's smirk grew even wider and settling on crossing them in front of his chest. "Things like that; I'm not a slut, I'm really not."

"Who here has slept with practically the entire nursi-" House began to call out far louder than necessary, cutting off with a pained grunt when he felt the heel of what he presumed to be a dress shoe stomp down on his own sneaker-clad foot. Blue-green eyes blinked slowly as the blonde owner of them looked between the two brunettes, reaching down and picking up his sandwich before taking a smaller bite, chewing carefully as he watched the friends interact.

"I'll have you know that I haven't slept with them all!" Wilson hissed while looking positively murderous.

"You've slept with more than half of them!" House countered, smirking at the small quirk of Chase's eyebrow. His newest duckling was obviously rapt in their little domestic dispute. "That makes it practically all!"

"It does not!" the Oncologist countered, having even decency to at least look a bit chastised. Turning his attention back to Chase, the brunette looked at his with eyes that pleaded for forgiveness. "I swear, I'm not a slut."

Shaking his head, the blonde swallowed his mouthful of his sandwich before muttering, "Not my place."

"Well, you sure wouldn't have sex at Jimmy's place," House cut in, making the other brunette's face burn while the blonde shrugged.

"We wouldn't have sex at my place," Chase countered, making the Diagnostician smirk as Wilson covered his face with his hands.

Muttering to himself, the Oncologist lowered his head in his hands to the tabletop, "This isn't happening. This isn't happening... This can't be happening."

"Oh, it's happening, Wilson," House replied before leaning over and resting his hand on his friend's shoulder. "You just got competition in the man-whore department. It's going to be a whore-off."

"...A whore-off?" Both Chase and Wilson asked as they turned their attention solely to the surly Diagnostician that was grinning maniacally in amusement.

"Yes, a whore-off. And not to play favorites or anything, but you're so going to lose, Jimmy."

"Wait, *I'm* going to lose?" Wilson asked as he sat up straight and looked at his friend with challenging eyes.

"...I'm confused. Exactly *how* is my winning playing favorites?" Chase added before taking another bite of his lunch.

"I'm with Chase on this," Wilson added. "If this was a challenge to see who could date more women, I would easily win this."

"...Well, I wouldn't go *that* far," the blonde interjected.

"Please, Jimmy," House admonished as he grinned. "Look at the boy-"

"I'm a man, thank you!" he cut in, quickly being ignored by both of the brunettes.

"Blonde, young, blue-eyed, and British-"

"I'm from Australia. ...We've had this conversation already."

"He would wipe the floor with you, Wilson."

"He would not!" Wilson countered. "Women flirt with me all the time!"

"Come on, name one woman whose panties wouldn't hit the floor so hard it would create a crater in the ground just from spending ten minutes with the Wombat wonder from Down Under!"

"...That's...mildly offensive..." Chase added, rolling his eyes when the two men continued with their debate.

"Easy! Cuddy, for one. Then there's Nurse Brenda-"

"Hey, Battleaxe Brenda would turn into a giggling schoolgirl if they went out! Even *you* don't stand a chance of turning her nice!" the brusque brunette challenged.

"Oh, I so could!" Wilson accepted, taking the bait and making the cantankerous doctor smirk.

"You're on, Jimmy!" House said as he held out his hand, his smirk growing when it was eagerly shook in recognition of the challenge. "The first one of you to not only get a date with the Battleaxe, but make her a docile, de-clawed kitten wins!"

"...I'm sorry, what?" Chase asked as he swallowed his half-chewed mouthful, his words slightly slurred as he looked between the two. "What's going on?"

"And what does the winner get?" Wilson asked before taking a bite of his forgotten lunch, chewing contemplatively.

"Our half is simple," House replied as he quickly polished off his portion of Chase's lunch before tucking into part of Wilson's lunch. "You win, and the Wombat here, will come to work in a feminine outfit of your choosing."

"What?" Chase choked. "You can't make that kind of decision for me. I completely disagree!"

"Oh please. Any girly clothes that he picks out would be an improvement to what you're wearing, Wombat."

"...What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Chase asked as he looked down at his damp clothing, momentarily forgetting the conversation they had diverted from.

"Homeless people wouldn't wear that color combo. Honestly, did you have Ray Charles without that color palette? That shirt is hideous; seriously, never wear it again. And it definitely does not go with that tie. ...Or those pants."

"...He does have a point," Wilson said as he nodded.

"Anyway, you would have to do the same thing if you lose, Jimmy. Agree?"

"Agree."

"And for your sake," House said as Chase frowned and looked down at his clothes. "You might want to start praying to your Jewish God about winning. After all, imagine that," House paused to wave towards Chase, "on you. Only in a dress-form."

"Oh, God..."

"That's a start! Now, Wombat, that brings me to rule number four..."

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**verlan**: I shall; thank you for the encouragement!

**assioma**: Aw, why, thank you! I'm getting back onto my old writing schedule (minimum of one update per week) so, hopefully, I won't keep y'all waiting too long.

**manwithasqueegee**: Why, thank you. It's a "fuck it all" approach to writing. Oh, man, I have *horrible* and ridiculous grammar. But I have read some that I can't get past the first few sentences because it's either way out of character (like completely different people) or just plain is difficult to read.

**kilala-hunters**: Indeed! And here's another update! (I'm slow.) I do believe (correct me if I'm wrong, I stopped watching House around the dreaded Chase/Cameron arc; but I try to keep up to date on important Chase moments) that Chase was there for six months before Cameron and Foreman joined the shindig, right? (I have some rules for those encounters...)

**ladykale1985**: Aww, thanks. Here's more for you.

**twighlightluvr001**: Aww, thanks!

**The Petulant Prodigy**: It's what makes them such a dynamic duo! ...You sold me with the sparkly Wombat sprinkles on top. Here's more for you!

**zaffiro**: No, no, no. I'm just...I'm really blonde (and old - unless it's the layouts and inner workings of a video game, I forget things...like my account password) so I tend to forget things.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: House Rules

Summary: "There are certain things you must know in order to survive as a foreigner in this great country, Wombat..." It was Chase's interview with House and he felt the need to go over the rules of survival in a new country with the innocent duckling...one day at a time.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warnings: Uhh...odd humor, swearing, yaoi, graphic smut, groping, field trips, drinking, etc.

* * *

><p>Rule Four: Beware the Battleaxe<p>

"Now, Jimmy knows everything he needs to know about trying to win this bet," House continued. "You, on the other hand-"

"Didn't make any bet?" Chase offered before finishing his half of his own sandwich.

"Oh, it's too late to back out now, Wombat," the Diagnostician continued as he grinned gleefully. "Unless you want to forfeit to Jimmy and let him dress you up in something trampy to wear to work. ...Then again, it could be a major improvement from what you're currently wearing. Do all British people dress like a colorblind child in a dark closet?"

"Once more, I'm Australian," the blonde huffed before looking down at his mismatched shirt and tie, frowning slightly, "and what's wrong with my clothes? They fit quite well."

"Oh...God... Jimmy?" House looked over to the other brunette, who smiled gently at the blonde as though he were trying to comfort a kitten about to be dipped into icy water.

"Chase," the Oncologist said soothingly, "do you see anything wrong with your outfit?"

"It's obvious he doesn't," House quipped before gesturing at the blonde doctor. "Just look at what he wore to an interview, Wilson!"

"Hush now. Go on, Chase."

Not saying anything, the blonde looked back down at his clothes, "I shouldn't wear stripes?"

"The only thing you see wrong are the stripes?" the elder brunette asked incredulously before looking at his friend. "He's a lost cause, Jimmy! There's no fixing that!"

Waving off his exaggerating friend, the other brunette continued to smile softly as he spoke in a comforting tone to the young doctor, "It's not the stripes so much as the color. ...And the fact that you paired a green, striped shirt with a pale pink...ish... tie."

"If that's a pale pink then I'm the Pope," House commented, getting a dismissing wave thrown in his direction.

"I'm sure what Greg means is that...well, I'm not too sure of what he meant by that one-"

"It's a salmon-colored tie."

"But the point we're getting at is that, quite simply, your outfit doesn't match. ...At all."

"Trust me; Jimmy's big on fashion. He wouldn't lie to you just so he could be the snazziest male slut in the hospital."

"Did you just use the word "snazziest" in a- Hey! I am not a slut!" the brunette snapped at his grinning companion.

"Just ignore him," House told the confused blond who continued to look between both men and his clothing while they spoke. "Dress however you like. I'll mock you either way. You're the Ray Charles of Diagnostics."

"He's basically calling you blind," Wilson clarified at the confused look on the Australian's face.

"But back to my original topic," the other brunette cut in, not wanting to explain who they were talking about to the younger male just yet. He would be able to tease him mercilessly about it for months to come if the blonde had no idea what was going on most of the time. And something told him that the blonde could be both a dimwit and sharp as a tack in the same breath of a sentence. "Rule number four is to beware the Battleaxe. Most call her "Brenda" but, rest assuredly, she's a battleaxe."

"...I don't understand," Chase muttered as he looked over at Wilson.

"He's not saying that Nurse Brenda is unappealing to the eye, per se."

"Woof!" House barked loudly as he grinned, getting more glares from nearby doctors and nurses. "She's a dog."

"She is not," Wilson defended.

"Sure, stand up for your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend!"the Oncologist cried out as softly as he could manage.

"Is she next on the "Boy Wonder list of future wives?""

"What? No!"

"Women to pound into a mattress?"

"No! Brenda is not going to be a future girlfriend of mine nor is she going to be a future wife!"

"For your own sake, you better hope you're wrong," the Diagnostician remarked as he grinned widely. "Because if you're right then you'll be dressed in some frilly, horribly discolored and mismatched ensemble that the Wombat will put together. Granted, I'll make sure it's in the right size so you won't have any excuse not to wear it and all."

"Very funny, House," Wilson replied dryly. "You know that Brenda is not easily charmed."

"She has the sex drive of a rock," the Diagnostician added with a sly grin.

"...A rock?" Chase repeated, unable to stop a slow smile from gracing his face. "As opposed to you; having the sex drive of a bunny?"

"I like him," Wilson snickered while House just grinned brightly, his expression emulating a proud father who had just witnessed his son kill a deer with a bullet between the eyes.

"This coming from a kid who probably spent every night of his teenage years sleeping in a different girl's bed?"

"Someone's upset his bed-hopping days are long gone," the blonde teased, grinning back at the brunette.

"Hey, at least my bed-hopping days weren't last week, Brit-Boy!"

"Australian!"

"It's practically the same damn thing!" House called out, his bright blue eyes lighting up with glee at the shade of pink that his newest duckling turned, watching jubilantly as the young doctor gaped.

"Greg," Wilson practically breathed in a voice of disappointment. The brunette doctor would have felt more ashamed at himself if the blonde was not reacting in such an amusing manner. He acted like a five-year-old would if they were told that ice cream was made from puppies; horror, astonishment, sickness... It really was amusing to watch the range of emotions flitting across the blasé foreigner's face. It proved that the doctor would provide adequate amusement should things get to boring around the hospital. "He didn't mean that," Wilson soothed the little duckling before glaring at the Diagnostician. "Right, House?"

"Right, all in good fun," He acquiesced, watching intently as the blonde's mouth snapped shut, cools pools of blue and green narrowed slightly in the brunette's direction in both anger and embarrassment at having been ridiculed and falling for the simple ploy. He could tell that the blonde was going to need some sort of peace offering if he was going to get back into his flippant and playfully sarcastic attitude. Looking around, the brunette grinned at the sight of something lying beside Wilson's lunch.

Quickly reaching over, the brunette snatched up the innocent looking treats before holding some out to the blonde, ignoring how his friend rolled his eyes. "Please, help yourself," the Oncologist grumbled before swiping the remaining Hershey Kisses off of the table and slipping them into the pocket of his lab coat. "It's not like I brought them because *I* like them."

"Want a Kiss?" House offered as he batted his eyes playfully at the Intensivist.

"Please tell me that is not one of your pickup lines," Chase teased, unable to help the slight curve of his lips as he reached out and plucked one of the foil-wrapped chocolates up by the printed paper tail that emerged from the top.

"No; hookers don't need pickup lines if you have cash. But feel free to use that one on the Battleaxe and make sure to tell me if it actually works!"

"So you can attempt to date her?" the blonde quipped as he swiftly unwrapped the foil, taking great care not to tear the delicate material as he spread it out. Pulling the ribbon of printed paper away from the chocolate Kiss, Chase picked up the treat before popping it into his mouth and grinning at House. "You know, you could always ask her out rather than making us do your dirty work for you. I'm sure if you gave up the hookers-"

"Greg giving up hookers?" Wilson snorted in amusement.

"Oh, you have no idea who you're messing with," House taunted as he unwrapped one of the Kisses, popping the chocolate into his mouth before wadding the foil and paper into a ball, flicking the trash-able item at the blonde and hitting him in the center of his forehead. "Wait 'til you meet her; you'll probably be on the next flight back to London."

"Melbourne," Chase corrected as he swirled the chocolate in his mouth, letting it melt across his tongue. "And I think you're being a bit dramatic."

"Au contraire mon frere," the brunette replied as he grinned. "She's a beast."

"He's, for once, actually telling the truth. ...To a degree," Wilson chimed in before taking another bite of the remainders of his own lunch. "Brenda Previn can be-"

"A bitch," House cut in as he smirked.

"I was going for "a bit difficult to handle," actually," the other brunette replied before smiling soothingly at Chase. "She's headstrong."

"A bitch."

"Resilient to House's tricks."

"Bitch. Just say it, Jimmy."

"She's temperamental."

"She's bitchy. Bitch-like. Bitch-ish, if you would."

"House, seriously."

"I'm being very serious," House replied even though a large grin was plastered to his face. "I'm warning you, Wombat, should the She-Devil show any signs of aggression towards you, cover your balls and run."

"Really?" Chase asked as he sipped from his water. "Just my balls? Can I cover my dick was well?"

"Oh God, he's already catching your personality!" Wilson gasped in mock-horror. "Cuddy's going to freak if she finds out that you're creating an army of...you!"

"You're *years* too late!" House teased as he laughed maniacally, rubbing his hands together. "Do you realize the sheer number of doctors that have worked underneath me?"

"...And how many of them quit after one week?"

"Irrelevant!" House exclaimed, getting Chase to raise his eyebrow in silent question. "Anyone who has worked for me for longer than one hour has had their life irrevocably altered!"

"Imagine what you could do if you used this power for good instead of evil," Wilson jibed, grinning slightly at his friend.

"You can't be naughty when you're good," the surly Diagnostician retorted as he grinned, winking in Chase's direction.

"What was that?" Wilson asked seriously as he looked between the two.

"Not a damn thing."

"House..."

"It was nothing, Jimmy."

"Oh my God... House!"

"I didn't do anything!"

Chase looked in between both of the brunette's in confusion, waiting for a chance to jump in and ask just what they were talking about when he witnessed Wilson reaching over and smacking his bosses arm in a way that was more than playfulness but less than someone with intent to harm, making him think twice about even asking them what was going on. "You know what! I've seen that dark twinkle in your eyes before!"

"Twinkle?" House snorted derisively. "My eyes have no twinkle."

"Oh, yes, they do. Every time you see Stacy...or Cuddy's breasts..."

"Cuddy's fun bags practically ask to be ogled what with how she displays them. Hell, no one wears low-cut tops like that if they do not want anyone to take a peek at her-"

"That's beside the point!" Wilson cut in, stopping House before he could launch into a dirty, innuendo-laden tirade about the benefits of flaunting one's assets besides the conventional means. "You just gave that look to-"

"Oh, I did not!" House defended as he rose to his feet with the help of his cane. "Come, Wombat, we've got a bet to win!" Nodding, the blonde shrugged at Wilson before cleaning up the remainders of his meal and following his boss, who was limping away as quickly as he could manage. "Get your eyes checked, Jimmy! You're going to need them once we win this bet!"

"My eyes are just fine!" Wilson called back, grinning as they blonde followed after the Diagnostician; he really could see the duckling metaphor...if the mother duck was an cantankerous addict.

"...Are you going to tell me what that was about?" Chase asked as he continued to follow House.

"Nope, but I will clue you in on how to win that bet. Unless you want to dress like a woman for a day," the brunette teased salaciously, wiggling his eyebrows at the blonde.

"I'll pass."

"So you *want* to cross-dress on your second day of work? We can swing around and you can forfeit to Jimmy. He'll drop off your new outfit for tomorrow and all if we let him go shopping to-"

"Not a chance!" the young Intensivist interjected as he looked at House defiantly. "There's no way that I'm going to dress as a woman to work."

"Then listen up and listen good, Wombat, because Wilson's got the upper advantage here. He's actually held a decent conversation with the Battleaxe before. But, we have something that he doesn't."

"...We do?"

"Oh yeah," House replied as he grinned mischievously. "We're going to use that to our advantage and win this one."

* * *

><p>Review for more.<p>

Thanks for reviewing:

**D**: Aww, thanks. Here's more for you.

**Pallada**: His shirts were very amusing. That it is! Heh, it will be very fun to write.

**verlan**: Thank you for reading.

**Amira Devant**: Aww, thanks, but don't hurt nothing. Heh, that his is! Here you go.

**Nina**: Heh, that's because he's a thinly-veiled whore. Hm, with House influencing the choices, it might end up being a bit racier than that if he loses.

**monica**: Aww, thanks. Here's more for you. Sorry for the wait.

**anon**: Aww, thanks. Here's more for you!

**Dragon Tamer103088**: Thanks!

**Xzavix**: Aww, thanks! I think there are a few stories out there about the hiring of his favorite ducklings. This is just my random attempt at writing my own version. Ha. He is rarely responsible. And even when he is, he isn't.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: House Rules

Summary: "There are certain things you must know in order to survive as a foreigner in this great country, Wombat..." It was Chase's interview with House and he felt the need to go over the rules of survival in a new country with the innocent duckling...one day at a time.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warnings: Uhh...odd humor, swearing, yaoi, graphic smut, groping, field trips, drinking, etc.

* * *

><p>Rule Five: Keep Up<p>

"...Are you actually going to tell me what "we" have that your friend doesn't?" Chase asked as he followed House all the way to the Nurse's front desk, making sure not to look around too much; he was certain that the nurses were whispering about him and while he normally did not give a damn what people thought of him, he was rather new to this country and felt like he was put on display for everyone to look at.

"Just hold your damn kangaroos, Wombat," House muttered as he waved his free hand while limping up to the front desk. A short, but very vicious looking nurse sat behind the large desk and glared at House as though he was the largest spider in the room and needed to be squashed before he could skitter into a dark crevice and plot his next scheme to ruin her life. Then again, for all that he knew about his boss, that could very well be true. "Battleaxe!" he cried out cheerfully, making the woman scowl in a way that made the blonde understand the whole "cover your balls and run for cover" comment.

"Go away, House," Brenda sneered before turning back to a stack of folders on her desk. "Unless you're here to take the cases of teenagers with explosive diarrhea, I don't care what you want."

"See," House muttered as he tilted his head in Chase's direction. "Bitchy." Looking back at the woman, House smiled in false sincerity. "As much as I would *love* to, I'm busy enough trying to show my new Duckling around the pond. He's hopelessly lost but I blame that on the fact that he's a nature blonde."

"Oh, what poor idiot have you roped into working for you this time?" Brenda asked as she looked up, pausing at the sight of Chase. "Oh, I didn't even see you there. Hello," she said sweetly as she reached out her hand. Chase smiled warmly at her while he reached out and shook her hand.

"Pleasure to meet you. My name is Robert Chase," the golden-haired Australian said and House could practically see Brenda unraveling from her usual ball-busting self to a mewling kitten that just wanted to spend time with its newest toy. At first thought, this was a wonderful thing; not only would House not have to deal with a bitching, relentless shrew who wanted nothing more than to make sure that he was miserable when Cuddy could actually get him to perform his clinic hours, but it also meant that Wilson did not stand a chance at winning the bet. That made him smile in a way that could be seen as evil. Because when Wilson lost this bet, it meant that his newest Duckling, his little Wombat, was going to be shopping in the women's department of a clothing store to pick out horribly mismatched and clashing items for his best friend to wear to work. And he would get bonus points if he picked out heels that were tall enough to make the brunette fall and quite possibly flash them some inappropriate panties as well. He was guaranteed that his Wombat could easily take the prize on this one and he could bring his camera into work and make sure to stay by his friend's side all day long just to make sure that he got the most out of Wilson's humiliation and plenty of blackmail material in the process.

As he looked back at the demonic Head Nurse, House cringed at the way she was hanging on Chase's every word, knowing that she had fallen head over heels for his brilliant and charming smile. There was no way that she had withstood the foreigner's allure; he was standing there with all of his attention of the ball-buster and she was blushing like a schoolgirl and batting her eyes at him like a common whore.

Bright blue eyes widened as he looked between the two. She was being lured into the Wombat's nest. ...Did Wombat's even nest? Borrow, perhaps? His Wombat seemed like a nester. And there she was, Satan herself, eagerly going along with it and damning Wilson's chances over ever being seen as a normal doctor ever again. The only problem was...he could not exactly tell if Chase was just stringing her along or if he was actually beginning to fall for the shrew.

His mouth opened when Brenda looked around, scribbled something down and handed it over to Chase with a girlish giggle. This could not be happening! Sure, he had wanted to win this bet and sure, it was happening far faster than he could have even anticipated, but *this*?

Chase smiled charmingly at the bitch as he looked over the slip of paper, there was no doubt in his mind that it was either her personal phone number or her address. He was not sure which one was worse. The blonde folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket before smiling back at the woman. His cheerful "I'm a ray of sunshine from the wonderful county of Australia!" smile made House's stomach churn as he clutched his cane tighter. He was seriously beginning to doubt that anyone would be able to keep their panties, or boxers even, above their ankles. His tight-lipped "I'm sorry, I've got bad news for you" smile was easier to dismiss that his bright smile. Ironically, it brought that iconic "Down Under" song to his mind and tempted the surly doctor to smile. He was sure he would have if he was not reeling from his earlier thoughts.

His Wombat... HIS Wombat could be falling for the She-Bitch!

Turning around as quickly as he could, House hobbled away from the nurse's front desk. He had to find Wilson as quickly as he could and inform him about the travesty that was unfolding all around him! Sure, there was a chance his little Duckling would be confused when he turned around to look for his boss to find no one there, possibly even a little hurt at being abandoned. But, as Chase would quickly learn from living in the greatest country on the planet, you either keep up with the flow or you get left behind in the choppy water, left for the various wildlife to chomp down on your waterlogged remains.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth at the thought of what amusingly adorable expression would light up Chase's face when he realized that he was alone with the shrew. That thought quickly unraveled at the thought of his doing unspeakable acts with the uptight bitch on her desk. Sure, he had gleaned that the blonde was a bit more upstanding than himself when it came to having sex at work, but, then again, he also was a feisty little thing that not only begged to be petted and loved, but also given treats to gnaw on in the meantime.

Hobbling along the tiled floors of the hospital, House quickly found himself standing in front of the doors to the cafeteria. With any luck, he could fling them open to find his friend sitting where he had left him to finish up his lunch. Tossing any doubt to the wind, the brunette pushed the door open forcefully, not caring that people stared as his bright blue eyes rakes across the crowded seats for a certain Oncologist that he could pour his doubt and concerns to without a care. Not seeing the kindhearted sap anywhere in the cafeteria brought a snarl to his lips.

"What are you looking at?" House snapped at the various doctors before walking away from the cafeteria. This was really starting to get on his nerves. But, luckily for him, Wilson was a creature of habit and almost assuredly, after he ate his half of his lunch he would head back to his desk to complete his mountains upon mountains of paperwork about sickly, bald children that enjoyed House's antics as much as the Oncologist himself did, even though he denied it at every chance. Limping down the hallways, and making sure to keep an eye out for Cuddy at all times, the brunette scurried towards the Oncology wing as quickly as he could manage, popping a few Vicodin along the way. Hey, there was no need to be in pain during his quest to find his best friend and get his help. And that was going to be a hard thing to admit to.

House did not even bother to knock once he made it to the door of his friend's office, throwing the door open and limping inside, startling his friend, who glared at him before looking around. "House," Wilson began warily as he noticed the pathetically distraught look upon the Diagnostician's face. "Where's Chase?"

"Down at the clinic," House spat as he plopped himself down on the Oncologist's ridiculously comfortable couch, setting his cane between his spread thighs as he glowered. "Chatting up the bitch from the seventh level of Hell."

"I thought you didn't believe in Hell?"

"Shut up, Jimmy. I...I need your help."

"My help?" Wilson repeated as he perked up slightly. Sure, there were times when he needed Wilson's assistance in some barely legal shenanigan that could end up with the whole hospital being sued, but the brunette grump never once, *willingly* asked for help. He usually pulled at his friend's strings to unravel him and challenge him just enough to get the other brunette to willingly go along with his whims. Granted, he was usually right, but still. This was a whole new territory that House had almost eagerly brought up. "What do you need my help with?" He knew that it had to be something that involved Chase, otherwise the newest duckling would have been following behind his mother duck with eager eyes and silent adoration. Instead, House was alone, sitting on his couch and asking for help. "...You left him down there, didn't you?"

"Wilson-"

"Come on, Greg, if he royally screwed up with Nurse Brenda, I'm not going to make a fool of myself just so you can win this bet; I have my dignity, you know! We've already broached on the topic of your newest employee being colorblind. I'm not going to throw myself under a bus with Brenda just so you two can have another shot at her."

"Jimmy..." House began once more, looking less uncomfortable and more confident about why he was going to ask Wilson for his help.

"It's not happening, House," the Oncologist continued, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he leaned back in his chair. "If Chase has to wear something feminine to work and that completely throws off your groove simply because you can't focus, that's too damn bad. I'm not risking wearing some tawdry, horribly-colored sundress or some other god-awful thing you help him pick out- Don't give me that look, I know for a fact that you'll help pick things out in my size just to make sure that I have absolutely no reason not to wear it! I'm not helping you humiliate me, Greg! It's rude of you to even think that I'm *that* much of a masochist! There's no way I'm going to lose this bet so you need to-"

"Jimmy, I need you to win this bet!" House cut in, looking even more surly as Wilson completely paused, his mouth hanging open as his mind tried to wrap around that idea. House wanted him to win the bet that they had going on? He actually wanted Chase to lose this bet and *not* him? That was...unheard of. House loved challenges and winning bets, any kind of bet, really, but a bet where someone was going to actually have to cross-dress at work for an entire day with the winner picking out the outfit? Unheard of!

"...I-I'm sorry, what?" the Oncologist stammered stupidly as he blinked, his eyes never leaving House's face.

Review for more.

Thanks for reviewing:

**mimi**: Aww, thanks! Here's an update for you with just as much love back.

**verlan**: I keep hedging on that as well. It's a tricky situation House has gotten himself into.

**RandomFanChick**: Thanks! Here's more; all though, I'm not sure what "nonie parts" are...

**assioma**: Aww, thanks! It's just the random workings of my mind.

**Amira Devant**: House always has a plan...even when he doesn't.


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